


Save It For Morning

by DeepDisiresLonging



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Angst, Baby Names, F/M, Fluff, wrestling injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-30
Updated: 2019-03-30
Packaged: 2019-12-26 13:34:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18283328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeepDisiresLonging/pseuds/DeepDisiresLonging
Summary: Prompt: “Yay! Okay so, could you possibly do a imagine/one shot thing based off the aftermath of the Jordan vs Walter match? Maybe the reader and Jordan had been together for a few years and are engaged and working on a family. She’s American and met Jordan while working an Indy show overseas and from there she relocated to be closer to Jordan. Jordan had such a serious match that she ended up staying in the emergency room with him all night? Just a really fluffy maybe a little angst imagine please?”





	Save It For Morning

 

_“Just a few seconds left in this ‘beat-the-clock’ match between Walter and Devlin.”_

_“It’s been one hell of a ride. These two have spent weeks tearing each other apart and it has led to this. Walter can barely see from one eye and Devlin seems to be favoring his left shoulder. And it looks like- Oh! I’m glad I’m sitting here instead of standing in that ring.”_

_“Walter is brutal. He’s targeting Devlin’s shoulder with everything he’s- And Devlin’s got him! And a steel chair. Just wailin’ away at Walter’s spine in payback. The referee has started his count.”_

_“Devlin doesn’t look good leaning on the ropes like that, but at least he’s standing. And… congratulations Jordan Devlin! For winning the match, and more importantly, for surviving Walter.”_

_“But at what cost?”_

***

“You shouldn’t be here, Love.”

The whiteness of the hospital room was blinding. And even more unsettling was your fiancé’s place in it. If you never saw him in another hospital bed it would be too soon.

“Where else should I be?” you asked, giving his hand a squeeze. “Out in the waiting room? No; I belong here.”

Jordan shook his head and looked down at the newly forming bump at your stomach. “Stressin’ about me… it can’t be good for them. You should go home.”

“And what? Worry myself into a mess there? That’s a worse idea than the waiting room.” Reaching up, you cupped his face. “As long as I can see you, I’m not worried. You’re going to be okay, darling. I know it.”

He chuffed. “An’ how do ya know that?”

“Call it pregnant woman intuition.”

Knowing he had lost the fight, he looked towards the door. Still, the doctor didn’t show up with the results. If you ever got your hands on Walter, and if Jordan’s career was injured in any way, his life was over. You gasped as a twinge of pain hit your side. Jordan flexed, half-about to hop out of the bed to check on you. He laid back as you waved him away.

“Not even big enough to kick yet, and they’re already fighting.” The small smile on his face hinted that you’d found a good distraction. “I met a little old lady at the store the other day.”

“Hmm?”

“Yep. She tapped me on the shoulder and said ‘you’re going to have a girl.’ I didn’t think I was even showing yet. Not to anyone who doesn’t know what I usually look like at least.”

Now you had his full attention. “Wha- how would she know that?”

Smiling, you shrugged. “She said something about how it was the way I walked. I have the gait of a pregnant woman who’s going to have a girl.” That made you both laugh. It seemed ridiculous. But you dropped your voice. “I wasn’t going to believe her, or even tell you… but my mom met someone like that too. And she was right.”

Jordan arched an eyebrow. “Some little ol’ lady told your mum that you were going ta be a girl? Huh.” He laid back into his pillows. “Sounds… mysterious.” Then he shrugged. “But that does make baby names a little easier.”

You bit your lip. Right on plan. You pulled out your phone and went to the list of names, including some you wanted to run by him. Jordan got out his phone too. Recently, the name-game had become your favorite pastime. And it never failed to put a smile on your faces.

“Alrighty, first on the list. Bridgit.”

“Like the saint or the Celtic goddess?”

“Either.”

“Cool. Add it to tha official list. My addition: Darina.”

“Sounds pretty.”

“I thought so too.” He scrolled a bit. “How about Caoimhe? It means precious.”

“I like it… only if you promise to teach her how to spell it.”

He laughed. “Deal. So that makes the list?”

“Yes.” You bit back a grin. He liked the game more than you did and always had five or six names to consider.

“What about Eimear? Another one from Irish legends.”

“Oh, I know that one! But that’s such a tragic story… among other things. Do you really want that attached to our daughter’s name?”

He frowned. “Not really. Good point.”

There would have been more, but the doctor knocked on the door. You held Jordan’s hand through the diagnosis. His iron grip on your hand released. Not dislocated. But there were some injuries to his ribs that they would have to check in the morning after the swelling went down.

So, you stayed the night. Both of you. In the same cramped cot. And talked. Talked about life on the other side of the morning. You told him you weren’t kidding about taking Walter out yourself. He laughed and kissed your forehead, swearing that he believed you. If the results turned out to be nothing, he talked about looking for cribs tomorrow. You laughed into his chest, trying to imagine your future husband trying to maintain enough patience to construct one.

He gave you a mischievous side look. Fulfilling that would also have to wait until you were both home.

And if the results weren’t favorable?

Jordan was silent about that. There wasn’t a plan B without wrestling. You had a job, but with the baby coming you’d have to take time off. No use waddling around the office past a certain point. There were a few things he could do. All he’d have to do was call Triple H and there wouldn’t be a problem.

The only thing in the way was pride. If he asked for help, then the injury would be real. And real meant possible months of recovery. Months of taking it slow. Of sitting back. Boredom was his greatest fear. And what if his fear turned into anger. He’d never forgive himself if he snapped at you. Especially if it made you cry. To him, laying in the sterile bed, even with you by his side, it seemed terrifyingly bleak.

You snuggled your head under his chin as your eyes began to get heavy. “Save all that for the morning.” A small smile spread across your face. Jordan’s arms around you was perfect. Warm. Secure. “You’re going to be alright, Darling.”

“How do you know?” Jordan sounded seconds from drifting off to sleep too.

“Call it pregnant woman intuition.”

 


End file.
